


One Touch

by dsakitad



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Confusion, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fate, Fate & Destiny, Mystery, New World, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsakitad/pseuds/dsakitad
Summary: The reader is magically transported to a different universe where the Marvel Characters exist. This is a soulmate AU that when you first touch someone, you feel tingles all over your body and your soulmate can channel different emotions through the bond.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is a soulmate AU that when you first touch someone, you feel tingles all over your body and your soulmate can channel different emotions through the bond. In this piece, the reader doesn’t know about soulmates (it will be explained, I promise.)
> 
> Warnings: as usual with me, you’re going to find a swear word here and there.

You take in all the new sights around you, speechless by the numerous exotic colors and the brightness of the familiar place.  It was something out of a drug-induced dream, but even then, you weren’t sure you could have imagined something so….realistic.   _“How did I get from rural Michigan to New York City?”_ you thought to yourself as you got closer to the red colored sign that read “Coca-Cola” which then suddenly morphed into a completely new image with new colors.  

Jumping back in surprise, you accidentally bumped into another person.  You were quick to turn around and apologize, but before you could manage to get the simple words out, they were already half way across the street.  Trying not to feel too bad, you turned around to take in the surronding sights once again when you came face to face with a stranger. The first thing you notice about him were his eyes.  You were taken away by the peculiar color of them.  You had seen blue eyes before, but these were so vivid…so bright…you swore you could see yourself swimming the the blue ocean that was perfectly captured in those orbs.  

Time must have slipped away, because the man cleared his throat, effectively catching your attention.  You looked away from the deep pools and you could feel your ears turning red in embarrassment.  The man gave you a look of pure amusement, raising a perfect blond eyebrow.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

 _He had a smooth voice that could seduce a rock_ , you thought to yourself, trying not to get distracted by the loud noise of the city around you.  You clearly must have watched way too much tv if your imagination can conjure up something so realistic.

You then realized that you were asked a question and you flushed once again. “Sorry….I..uh….I’m–”  You paused, taking a breath to settle the panic that was slowly creeping up on you.  Feeling slightly more settled, you replied, “Physically, I’m okay. Mentally, I’m not sure.”  Realizing that you sounded crazy, you quickly continued, “I mean, I’m not crazy or anything.  It’s just that the last thing I remember was being in my car, driving home-“ you trailed off and your eyes glazed over, remembering what had happened.  Panic surged through your body and you gasped audibly.  “Holy shit. Someone freaking hit me!”  You ran your hands through your hair, gripping tightly at the roots as you were trying to process what was happening.  “My car went off the bridge,” you recalled, eyes darting back and forth as if you were seeing what had happened all over again.  “The last thing I remember is the glass breaking and a rock hitting my head-“ your right hand trailed over your forehead, feeling for the dent you knew should be there.  You were surprised when there was nothing there but smooth, undamaged skin.

Two large warm hands press down on your shoulders, and you felt your body come to life.  Where he made contact with your skin, it felt like warm water washed over your body and you suddenly felt substantially calmer and more settled.  Warm blue eyes were carefully watching you for your reaction.  You registered seeing concern and surprise in there and you wondered if this man could feel what you were feeling.  “Ma’am? Can you tell me who you are?”

You gave the man a skeptical look before pulling away.  His hands dropped from you and you registered a pained look that flashed across his face before he recomposed himself.  He crossed his arms over his chest and you caught on how his arms flexed….and it was incredibly hot.   _No_ , you chastised yourself mentally,   _you do not get to ogle at a strange man when you have no clue what the fuck is going on_.  “You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?”  As soon as the words fell from your lips, you were horrified at yourself and smacked a hand over your mouth, trying not to blush.  Obviously (in your mind) he couldn’t kidnap you because 1) this was all in your head and 2) you were in the middle of NYC where there were thousands of others around you.  No one was ballsy enough to do that in these circumstances.  “Sorry,” you apologized, ducking your head in embarrassment. “That was a silly thing to say.  I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”  You held out you hand for him to shake.

Again, when your skin touched his, you could feel little tingles break out.  “Steve Rogers.”  

Your eyes widened when you registered the name.   Did your mind really take you to a place where Captain America existed??

He must have noticed how confused you were, because he stepped away, dropping your hand and giving you space to breathe.  “I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but my…friend….said that there was a surge of unknown energy at this exact location and he sent me here to investigate.  Now, imagine my surprise that when I get here and I find my soulmate.”

You raised a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Soulmate?” you questioned in an incredulous tone.  “What world do you live in where soulmates exist?”  The hysteria was coming through your voice and you found yourself backing away even further from this man as you searched the crowds for a way to disappear.  “This has to be a dream,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head, as if that would clear things up for you. “Captain America is not real and he is not claiming to be your soulmate.”

Steve’s hand reached out for you again and connected with your forearm and he gently pulled you along with him as he headed in a new direction.  “Y/N.  I need you to calm down,” he muttered directly into your ear, his breath washing over your face and suddenly, you could feel calm washing over you even though you felt (mentally) anything but.  “I can feel how confused and scared you are,” he continued, turning a corner, “but I need you to know that this isn’t in your head and this is real.”

That seemed to be the breaking point for your mind, because your world suddenly went blank.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Medical Wing of Tower**

You felt like you were nestled up in soft fluffy clouds. A gentle warmth cradles your body in comfort. It feels like an out of body experience, floating in and out of reality. It was relaxing.

“What are you doing here?”

Your ears perk at the sound of a tenor males voice that sounded annoyed. How anyone could be so annoyed when you were in the clouds was beyond you.

“I’m here to watch over Ms. America over there,” you hear another male respond, sounding equally as annoyed as the first. “What are you doing here?”

You feel yourself let out an involuntary sigh.

The sigh led you to become more aware of your surroundings.

You realize that you weren’t actually floating around on a cloud, but rather in a high-end memory foam mattress that molded itself to your body. Also, you were covered in a plush blanket, presumably a down comforter. You become aware of a pressure wrapped around both your arm and index finger. There is a steady beeping and it registers that one is a blood pressure cuff and the other a heart monitor.

Were you in some sort of medical building? What had happened that you required medical attention?

“Well,  _ Samuel _ , I’m here to keep watch over her and wait for her to wake up so I can get Steve,” the first voice drawls out, solidifying you more fully to the present.

Willing your eyes to open, it takes a moment for them to adapt to the darkness of the room. After they adjust to the dim light provided from a floor lamp across the room, you do a quick sweep to take in your surroundings.

The only thing that stood out to you where the two men who had placed themselves just inside the door leading into the room. The first man easily stood at six feet tall with broad shoulders and a muscular build. He had long brown hair that was half up in an intricate knot and hauntingly beautiful blue-grey eyes. He looked like he could he could squeeze the life out of her with just one look. It was intimidating. The other man, Samuel, you surmised from their conversation, had beautiful dark brown skin. He was nearly as tall as the first man, maybe just a few inches shorter and slightly less muscular, but you had no doubts he could do damage if needed.

“You can’t be here if I’m already here,” Samuel argues, crossing his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps in an attempt to come off as domineering.

The first man quirked an eyebrow and mimicked the same move, his larger muscles leaving a bigger effect. “I think that I have more of a right to be here than you do.”

Jesus, these two men just needed to stop. You had bigger things to worry about than their petty arguments such as figuring out where you were and how to get back home. You weren’t fully convinced that this wasn’t some messed up dream your mind conjured in an effort to protect itself from whatever potential injury you should have received from your car accident. It made no sense that the last memory you had was being hit head-on in a car accident, pushed off a bridge, and then somehow ended up in New York City. Not to mention that you had someone claiming to be your soulmate. Was your subconscious really so desperate to be in a relationship?

Your hoarse voice broke through the men’s argument.“You two bicker like old women.”

The two men immediately stop with their arguing, turning to face you.

“I’m not the senior citizen here,” Samuel excuses, throwing his companion a smug look. “You must be talking about James. So clearly, you’re not talking about me.”

_ James _ scowls, hitting Samuel’s arm with a fist forcefully enough to have him teeter over a bit. “I might be over a hundred years old, but at least I don’t look like I’m 40.”

Samuel made an outraged gasp. “You-You take that back!” he shouted, pointing at his…acquaintance.

You just roll your eyes at the pair of them, coming to the conclusion that they wouldn’t be of much help to you. Rolling to the side of the bed closest to the machines that were attached to your body, you swing your legs over. Reaching with your left hand, you rip off the blood pressure cuff and then remove the finger pulse tech that was recording your heart rhythms. You brace yourself for a moment, anticipating the machines to alert James and Samuel that you had removed them, but was pleasantly surprised when the machines turned off altogether.

Looking over your shoulder, you were unsurprised to see the two still bickering away.

“I should be the lead on this because I’ve known Steve the longest. Til’ the end of the line,” James shot as you stand up from the bed.

Deciding to try to use their argument to your advantage, you thought to try to sneak out the door, praying that they were too involved with each other.

You had only made it three steps from the bed before James turned his steely gaze to you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You cringe but was proud enough to meet his gaze. “Out.”

“Out of your mind,” Samuel muttered conspiratorially, nudging James in the side with his elbow, trying to get a laugh.

James throws him a dirty look. “Your lack of decorum is exactly why I should be in charge, ya fat-head.”

“Shut up, Grandpa.”

You start to feel more concerned that these two morons were the ones in charge of watching over you. That brings another question to mind. “Am I being held hostage or something?” you ask, head tilting to the side as you give them a thoughtful look. “Because I should warn you, I can get very annoying real quick.”

James snorts. “That’s cute and all, but I can guarantee that you’re not half as annoying as Sam here.” He jerks a silver thumb over his shoulder at the man behind him before he held his hand out to you. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

Instead of taking his hand, you stare at it in apprehension. You’ve seen prosthetics prior to this moment, but nothing like this. You hadn’t noticed before due to him wearing a long-sleeved shirt and fingerless gloves, but you could now see that at a minimum, he had a polished silver metal hand…and it was slightly terrifying.

Bucky notices how uncomfortable you are and quickly draws his hand back to his side, a pained expression flickering over his face before disappearing just as fast.

Sam also notices the shift in mood and was quick to try to relieve tensions. “See Buck, this is why  _ I _ should be in charge.”

His attempt at distracting Bucky must have worked because Bucky was scowling at Sam once again. “I can’t help that my arm was ripped off as I fell off a moving train and down the side of a mountain. Kiss my ass, Wilson!”

Bucky’s revelation had you torn between feeling regret over reacting poorly to a disabled man and questioning the sanity of him. Who survived falling down the side of a mountain?

“Also!” Sam exclaims, hands on hips, “I should be in charge because I’m Steve’s new friend.  _ New _ , implying that the old was defective and no longer reliable.”

You ran your hands over your face in an exasperated manner. These two never stopped, did they? “LADIES!” you yell, wanting to stop their endless cycle of pointless bickering. “Quit bitchin’! Will someone please,  _ please _ tell me how to get out of here? I would really like to get home.”

You stare the two men down, waiting to see which one would answer you first. They both remained silent and you moved your head forward, eyebrows shooting up, silently telling them that you were expecting an answer.

Sam was the first to break, his face breaking out into a look of unease and uncertainty. “Yeah, about that…you can’t leave because you’re supposedly dead.”

Panic blossomed in your chest.  _ Was this hell? _

“Jesus, Sam. You’re going to scare her,” Bucky growls, fingers twitching, itching to smack his comrade upside the head. He then turns his attention to you, an apologetic look. “He doesn’t mean that you’re actually dead. What he means is that we ran your DNA through a database and that the only match we found matched that of a four-year-old who died in a car accident twenty years ago.”

“With your name,” Sam finished.

**Conference Room in Tower**

Steve stood at the head of the table, arms braced on the edges, looking over Tony and Natasha.

Natasha was actively engaged in their conversation, sitting up straight, eyes focused on Steve, nodding attentively whenever a new detail fell from his lips.

Tony, on the other hand, was slowly spinning around in the chair while looking at anything but Steve. Though he gave off the appearance of not paying attention, he was still listening in and giving his own input where needed.

“There’s not much to go on,” Tony said, rocking back and forth in the chair. “Ran her DNA through the database. Only hit that we got was from a case twenty years ago where a family was in their car and hit by a drunk driver. All DOA.” He stopped with the obnoxious rocking. “The kicker? It was an improbable 100% match.”

There was a moment of silence while the trio mulled over this information, trying to decipher what it meant.

“Do you think that the accident she thought she was in has to do with the one twenty years ago?” Nat asked, staring at Steve with green eyes. She had a hunch as to what was going on but wasn’t sure if she should mention it just yet.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, not liking the bitter taste of uncertainty. “She seemed sincere in her surprise that she was hit by another vehicle. Said that her car fell off a bridge and she hit her head. Of course, there was no physical injury that we found upon further examination. But…she was genuinely terrified and confused.” It just didn’t make any sense.

“I may have a theory,” Natasha admitted. The pieces added up and it was really the only logical explanation. “It’s not well known, but there have been…rumors of soulmates meeting through fate.”

Tony scoffed, “Sounds fake.”

She gave him a shrug, not really caring what he thought. “There have been a handful of cases where important people or people with influence have met their soulmates that they would have never met without some sort of divine intervention. I think Steve fits the profile and really, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“What are you implying?” Tony asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I think that it’s possible that Y/N isn’t from our reality.”

**Unknown Location**

Static crackled on the hand-held radio.

The voice, always distorted, spoke.

“She’s here. The mission is a go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback! I live off of that!
> 
> You can find this originally posted on Tumblr @ds-akita-d


	3. Chapter Three

_Recap:_

_Sam was the first to break, his face breaking out into a look of unease and uncertainty. “Yeah, about that…you can’t leave because you’re supposedly dead.”_

_Panic blossomed in your chest. Was this hell?_

_“Jesus, Sam. You’re going to scare her,” Bucky growls, fingers twitching, itching to smack his comrade upside the head. He then turns his attention to you, an apologetic look. “He doesn’t mean that you’re actually dead. What he means is that we ran your DNA through a database and that the only match we found matched that of a four-year-old who died in a car accident twenty years ago.”_

_“With your name,” Sam finished._

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck did you just say?”

You feel yourself reeling and you stagger against the wall. This is just too much, you think to yourself. Your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself and you feel yourself gasping for air. You lean forward, place your hands on your knees and let your head hang down. This was absolutely crazy. Your thoughts are racing, trying to make sense of this mess.

You recognized the accident that they were talking about. You knew all about it. It was the accident that claimed the lives of your parents and brother. Except, you had survived.

What kind of sick joke is this?

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You look up, still panting, to see that Bucky was crouched in front of you, his blue-grey eyes watching you with concern and empathy. “Just breathe in, breathe out. Follow me.” He exaggerates his breathing, in through his nose, out his mouth, chest lifting with every breath.

You mimic his actions and you can feel your heart rate slow and your breaths become more even and regulated. Your thoughts began to slow down and you felt more steady.

Your mind clears and you realize something. This is all in your head.

You were in an accident. Not the one from twenty years ago that claimed the lives of your family, but more recently.

You had been on your way home from work, having just received a promotion to partner in your law firm. You were crossing a bridge over a highway when a coworker sent you a text. Distracted, you hadn’t realized that you swerved into the next lane over until a semi-truck was blaring its horn at you. Shocked, you dropped the phone and jerked the wheel in an attempt to get out of the way, but it was too late. The semi clipped your side of the car, sending your car spinning into the guardrail. The cement guard broke on impact and your car went tumbling over the side. You remember a broken piece of concrete crashing through your windshield and hit you in the head before your car smashed into the highway below.

You know that there is no logical explanation for how you could have survived. Either this is the afterlife or this is your brain trying to protect you from the trauma.

Trying to figure it out right now was futile.

You take a deep breath to settle yourself once again and you feel the tension leave your body. You brush the invisible dirt off your hands, stand up straight, and turn to face Sam and Bucky.

In an eerily calm voice, you say, “I’m good now.”

Bucky and Sam share a worried look, but otherwise, don’t question it. Sam goes over to Bucky and whispers something in his ear that Bucky gives a nod to in response, both not taking their eyes off of you.

“Well,” Sam drawls out, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “As much fun as this shindig is, I’m going to…go do…things.” And without a further goodbye, takes off out the door.

You look to Bucky, raising an eyebrow in question of Sam’s strange actions, but otherwise, don’t say anything. He just shrugs, not offering any explanation before saying, “Let’s go on a tour.”

Bucky heads down the hall, not looking back to see if you would follow.

You stand there for a minute, debating whether to follow along or try to make a run for it. Since you had no idea the layout of the building or knowledge of what Bucky’s skills were, you erred on the side of caution and decided to chase after him, catching up in just a few steps.

He leads you through the building, pointing out different areas of interest, but you aren’t paying much attention. Instead, you’re lost in your thoughts.

The one thing you were certain of is that you crashed off of a bridge and that you had hit your head. Logically, this reality that you were in was just a projection your mind is giving you in order to protect you from the real trauma. What you couldn’t figure out is if this’ was just some play-by-play of some deep set fantasy. You were never someone who had been into Marvel Comics, nor were you the type to romanticize relationships. Yet you were in New York, surrounded by bickering idiots, and had Captain America claiming to be your soulmate.

Trying to make sense of anything was giving you a massive headache.

Instead, you turn to face the mountain of a man. “So, how come Sam called you grandpa? Is that a kink of yours or something?”

Bucky stops walking, turns around to look down at you, and gives you an amused look. “He thinks it’s so funny just because I was born in 1917.”

What the fuck? You think to yourself, but manage to keep a straight face. “Well, you should tell me what skin care product you use because you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

“Skip the ageing cream,” he comments casually, starting to walk down the hall again. “If you want to stay this fresh, I recommend experimentation by either German scientists or terror groups. Really does wonders for the body.” He pauses, tapping his chin with a silver finger, feigning that he was deep in thought. “Oh! And being frozen either in ice or cryogenically. That helps too.” He gives off a sardonic laugh, shaking his head at himself.

His response makes you pause, needing a moment to process everything that was just said. A half second later, you give a small shake of your head, clearing it. “Sounds realistic.”

Bucky comes up on an unmarked door, stopping and turned to give you a smile. “Yeah, we’re an interesting bunch.” He doesn’t leave room for you to comment, quickly changing the subject. “Do you like to read?”

“Are you implying that there are people who don’t like to?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him.

He lets out a little laugh before opening the door and gesturing you in.

You’re in awe. Never in your life had you seen so many books in one room beside in a library. Without further invite from Bucky, you rush forward to the first group of shelves and begin to peruse the section. Your eyes go over the classical literature that was sitting before you, flickering through the many titles. Glancing over at Bucky, you point to a certain book and ask, “Can I grab one to read?”

Bucky comes up over your shoulder to see what you were pointing at and gives you a look of surprise. “You want to read Animal Farm over some trashy romance novel?” he questions in a skeptical tone. You nod in affirmation and he just shrugs. “Go crazy.”

With a smile, you pull the book out from its spot and turn to face Bucky. Giving him a quick pat on the head, you happily skip over to where a group of plush armchairs are and plop down in one of them and immediately begin to read. Bucky grabs his own book from the same shelf and you glance over the cover of yours to see it was The Picture of Dorian Gray. Seems like you weren’t the only one who like classical literature.

You’re only half a chapter in when Bucky speaks up. “What do you do for a living?”  
You look up from your book, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you going to ask me what my favorite color is next?”  
Bucky rolls his eyes at your sassy response and closes his book, setting it down in his lap. “I am curious what life looks like for normal people.” He pauses, glancing at you sideways. “Normal being a relative term.”  
His last comment has you snorting. “Yeah, who’s normal anymore these days? Normal is boring.” You dog ear your page and close the book. “I work as a child psychologist. It’s….a difficult job. Not a lot of people want to work with children just because every single child is different. Adults are arguably easier because they can articulate their thoughts and feelings better whereas children, you have to be incredibly intuitive. There are only three of us in the county where I’m from, but I had just received word that I was given funding to start a larger program…one where I’m in charge of recruiting other child psychologists, developing family groups, teaching my ways of treating these children and so on and so forth.”  
Bucky was silent. When you looked up, you were amused at the awestruck look on his face.   
“What, cat got your tongue?” You tease.   
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Not at all, doll. I’m just…that’s amazing. I can’t believe how far we’ve come from locking up people in looney bins.”  
“Primitive asses,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s still not perfect, people wanting to medicate their children at any sign of not being immediately compliant, but at least we don’t shame and degrade them.” You allow yourself a deep sigh and change the topic. “Anyways, what do you do?”  
“I keep Captain America from getting into too much shit,” Bucky chuckles, getting a fond look on his face. “That man has no sense of self-preservation but, he comes from a good place. You wouldn’t believe it looking at him now, but he was a scrappy little punk back in the day. Didn’t matter, I was constantly pulling him off of guys three times his size. I always told him I looked forward to 70 years down the line when he wouldn’t be picking fights anymore. I shouldn’t be surprised that’s not the case.”  
You take note of his “back in the day” story to investigate further at a later time. “Bucky, do you have a man crush on Captain America?,” you ask in a teasing tone, raising an eyebrow in mock speculation.   
Bucky just laughs, “Steve’s a good guy, but he’s not my type.”  
Before you could respond, you hear a knock on the door followed by a familiar face walking in.   
Steve Rogers stands by the door awkwardly, rubbing his hands together in a nervous manner as he looks to you.  
Bucky looks over and his face splits into a large smile. Stomping his feet on the ground, he gracefully leaps up from the couch and heads to Steve, grabbing him in a quick hug before pulling away. “Steve! Glad you could make it! I’m going to go catch up with Mama Red Wing!” He then turns to you and nods a goodbye. “I’ll see you around.” And with that, he’s out the door.  
Traitor, you think, slightly irritated he just left you alone with this man who was notorious for making outrageous claims.   
You’re sorely tempted to ignore Steve’s presence and just continue reading, but Steve had this pathetically soft look on his face and you find yourself taking pity on the man. “You can come take a seat, I don’t bite.” Hard.  
Steve takes the invitation and walks over, moving surprisingly graceful for a man of his size and stature, and claims the same chair Bucky had previously occupied that faced you.  
He sits there and stares at you for a moment in silence and you take the opportunity to check him out yourself.  You have to admit to yourself that he’s a very attractive man for a delusional person. Then again, you’ve always been a sucker for blond hair and blue eyes. A part of you wonders what that says about you, that you created this gorgeous man and he’s completely insane and supposedly your soulmate.   
Steve clears his throat and gives you a nervous smile. “I imagine you have some questions?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback! I live off of that!
> 
> You can find this originally posted on Tumblr @ds-akita-d

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave feedback! I live off of that!
> 
> You can find this originally posted on Tumblr @ds-akita-d


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